Twenty-two year old Riley Sears promises herself never to fall in love unless it's with a guy who is long-term boyfriend material. She's not crazy, her psychologist reassures her of that, but when faced with situations she cannot control, well, her anxiety skyrockets.
Enter Dominic Mondez, the hottest creature ever to grace pecs and abs. The notorious playboy propositions Riley with the best sex of her life—his words. However, after learning he never sleeps with the same woman twice, Riley’s decision becomes remarkably simple.
No. Way. In. Hell.
Sadly, traversing the murky waters of friends without benefits is far from simple, especially since Dominic is the lead guitarist of local rock band, Mondez. He is also tempestuous, a womanizer, and—even worse—inexplicably jealous. Dominic is bad for Riley in every possible way. Bad, bad, bad.
If only her body would listen.
He was watching me, I could feel it. My body sensed him long before my head did and started tingling. Everywhere.
Oh, holy mother.
Just the thought of him made my heart pound. Traitorous thing. It merrily rammed against my ribcage as soon as I pictured his tall, muscular body and disheveled russet hair. My fingers itched to reach out and delve through the soft strands as I remembered what it felt like to tug on them as he groaned into my open mouth—but I shifted in my seat and sat on them instead. I wasn’t going down that road again, hell no. I was done.
Done.
A low chuckle cut through the muted sounds of heavy rock music emanating from inside, its gravelly sound resonating with my downstairs department, causing a deep blush to stain my cheeks.
Clearly, I wasn’t fooling anyone.
What in the name of sweet baby Jesus was he even doing here?
I tried so hard to focus on what Sebastian was saying. Thankfully, he held up his end of the conversation despite my unexpected inability to formulate any words. We’d been sitting together for a while without a single awkward pause so I nodded, smiled, and even laughed when required. To be fair, it was a pretty decent pickup attempt. Well, until he showed up.
Blue eyes burned my skin.
You don’t own me, you don’t own me, you don’t—
I swallowed, steeled myself and then glanced across the beer garden.
Own me.
Fuck.
Dominic was leaning against the wall, his black button-down shirt almost bursting at the seams. I blamed those insanely strong pecs and biceps. Honestly, they were huge. And the way his dark blue jeans hung enticingly low off narrow hips… It should be illegal. He was going to give someone—AKA me—a cardiac arrest if he wasn’t careful.
I shook my head. With a bottle of beer in one hand and a buxom blonde in the other—this one looked nastier than most—the guy was the physical embodiment of everything I despised. Truly.
If only my body would listen.
Raising the drink to full, kissable lips, he tipped his head back, piercing gaze still locked on me. He then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a flicker of emotions I couldn’t identify crossing his face when he noticed my breath catch.
The girl must have registered his distraction too because she started rubbing herself up against him like an overly aroused limpet. Gross. He broke contact with me and looked down at her, a dark smile tugging his lips. After murmuring something in her ear and slapping her on the ass, she giggled. I looked away, that familiar painful knot forming in my stomach once more.
Damn you, Dominic Mondez. Damn you to hell.
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